


Gone

by BeeWrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, I Have No Clue How Imma Continue This But You're Welcome To Cry Over The Movie With Me, I Was Mentally Preparing Myself For The Wrong Character Deaths, I'm Still In Shock By The Way, Marvel How Dare You, Seriously You Will Be Spoiled For Infinity War, So much angst, Tony Stark Is Not Ok, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, i am not ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14446887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeeWrites/pseuds/BeeWrites
Summary: ~MAJOR INFINITY WAR SPOILERS~The battle was over, and those still alive are left to pick up the pieces of this shattered universe.





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Again, SPOILER WARNING FOR AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR, THIS TAKES PLACE RIGHT AFTER THE ENDING SO THERE WILL BE SPOILERS FOR EVERYTHING.
> 
> Yo, I am shook. Like, wow. Just like that, and half the Avengers are dead. I knew we would get some death but I did not expect HALF THE CAST. I'm still expecting Strange to have foreseen this outcome as the only was to beat Thanos in the long run, why else wouldn't he have bailed as soon as he saw the battle was turning against him? My guess is someone is going to get the gauntlet and undo the finger snap of doom, bringing back everyone who was turned to dust.
> 
> This fic is mostly me venting my feelings after seeing the movie. Might continue this if there's enough interest, since I do have a whole week of vacation next week.

A moment.

That’s all it took.

A single moment. Tony stared at his battered hand, covered in ash, not able to believe, not _willing_ to believe what this meant. It was inconceivable, unfathomable… but the proof was on his hands. He sat, unmoving, the only other being left alive beside him caught in that same stillness, both not willing to accept this new version of reality they were thrusted into.

Nebula was the first to break the spell. An intake of breath, like a man coming up for air from the depths of a deep pool, then she sank to her knees, screaming in a way reminiscent more of an animal than a person, a cry of pain and loss known to all living beings to mean the loss of something so great, so precious, that it rendered the person unable to think.

Slowly, Tony raised his head, staring but not seeings the alien sky above him.

They lost. They really lost. And not only that. He lost Peter. He _failed_ Peter. The kid he had sworn himself to protect, to look after, to keep safe. He took him under his wing and now he was dead. Because he couldn't protect him.

He tried to take a breath, but his chest felt too tight, like there was a building on top of his chest preventing him from breathing, crushing him under the weight. He could feel his pulse beating in his chest, his head. Everything was blurry. He raised a shaky hand to his face, feeling wetness there.

He was shaking, he had to calm down before he had a panic attack, but how could he when Peter was dead, this was not okay, he was not okay, _it will never be okay_ , how could he let this happen, he should have done something differently, there must have been something he could have done to stop this, to save him, to save everyone.

Oh gods. Everyone.

He finally looked around, at Nebula with her face hidden in her hands, now so quiet and still she might as well have been a statue, at the desolate landscape of a world long fallen to ruin, at the piles of ash surrounding him.

Who else was dead? Who had been spared? Were any of his friends, his family, still there back on Earth? Was Steve and Rhodey still there to help him pick up the pieces. Was Pepper safe? Was Happy? How many families were torn apart, how many people had to watch their friends and loved ones disappear into ash.

His mind grew more and more frantic with each person and their uncertain fate his mind conjured up.

He choked, shuddering, wanting to cover his mouth but unable to do so because what was left of Peter was on his hand, _oh gods-_

He wasn’t sure how long he knelt there, his mind caught in a loop of grief and self blame, time seemingly having no meaning anymore.

After what felt like an eternity, he lowered his head once more. The silence on this empty shell of a world was deafening. He glanced around, Nebula still in the same position she was before. He opened his mouth, to say something, anything to break this god-awful silence, but his mind drew a blank.

What could he say? What could he possibly say? That it was going to be alright? Nothing will ever be alright again. They’d failed, Thanos won, and of course fate couldn't have been kind enough to have him disappear with Peter and the rest of them.

Instead he was left to pick up the pieces.

He took a few calming breaths, counting to five before exhaling, inhaling for a count of five, holding for two, exhaling for five, just like his therapist showed him in those sessions Pepper insisted he attend (was he still alive?). Eventually, his frantic breaths slowed somewhat and he attempted to stand.

His feet shook beneath him and the world seemed to tilt, making him stumble on every step as he thumped down beside Nebula. Up close, he could tell she was not still at all, but shaking so minutely it wouldn’t have been noticeable if everything around them hadn’t been so still.

He licked his lips and swallowed, both his mouth and throat dry, had he been screaming along with the warrior beside him? No, focus, you can wallow later.

“Hey…”

Even to his own ears, his voice seemed scratch and broken, hardly loud enough to be heard by the woman beside him. Gods, his throat hurt.

Slowly, Nebula raised her head and looked at him, expression so destroyed and full of grief it startled him.

“They’re gone…” she whispered, her black eyes blinking rapidly, her voice echoing his broken tone “We lost, Thanos won, half the universe is gone, Gamora is gone, _my sister is dead_ -”

Tony placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her increasingly frantic ramblings. She went still and for a second he thought she was going to snap and tear his hand off, but she only stopped talking and stared at him, expecting, waiting.

He started to speak, spurred on by her expectation, by the faint glimmer of hope in her dark eyes that all is not lost yet, that there is still a chance for something to be done.

“Yes, half the universe is dead-” his voice caught, his heart hitching as if saying it out loud would somehow make it more true, but he forged on, trying to convince himself as much as her “but half is still alive. We might have lost the battle, but as long as there is a single Avenge left standing, we will fight. We lost the fight, not the war. We’re still here, so there’s still hope for those left. But we can't stay here and mourn forever, no matter how much we want to, and trust me, I want nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die right now, because Thanos is still out there.”

Nebula gave a single jerky nod, then another and a few more. She looked away from him, looked down then sharply away when her eyes landed on a pile of ash nearby. Shakily, using his shoulder as a support, she stood and took a deep breath. Her hands formed tight firsts, shaking noticeably now.

“What do we do now?” she asked, voice devoid of any emotion and he envied her that, being able to push things aside and focus while his head was a ball of emotions, each too complex and strong, all of them together making him feel at once overwhelmed and utterly empty.

“Now,” said Tony, shakily standing himself “we find a way back to Earth.”

He glanced towards the ship they’d stoled, now lying broken in several pieces a ways away. No way of fixing that. Thanos hadn’t used a ship and any vessels capable of space travel on this planet had most likely long ago fallen into disrepair so bad even he couldn't fix.

“I landed my ship a quarter of a mile that way.” said Nebula, pointing at the distant rubble of what once might have been a magnificent building. She nodded in its direction again and started walking, her movements stiff and jerky but more stable with every step, as if having an end goal to focus on helped her stabilize.

“Ah, good, that’s gonna save time.” said Tony, feigning indifference but internally relieved someone else was taking the lead for once. Taking a few steps, he glanced down and stopped, holding out a hand to the cyborg. It took him longer than it should have to realize she couldn't see the gesture with her back turned.

“Wait, hold up.”

Nebula turned sharply “What?” she growled, suddenly sounding much more on edge. He might have overestimated her calm.

Tony gestured to the ashes around them, pretending not to notice her twitch.

“We can’t just leave them-their remains here.” he said.

“And how are we supposed to gather them all up? A vacuum?”

Now she was definitely looking murderous, although a tiny, hopeful part of Tony (who would have thought, hope really does die last) thought the anger was likely not meant for him. Or at least not mostly at him.

“Give me a second.”

He turned his back to her, attention turning to what little remained of his suit. It seemed Thanos missed the main frame, as it was only slightly damaged.

Eleven tense second later he had at least part of his suit UI working again. It took much longer to get the UI to actually cooperate, the whole thing short-circuiting and freezing every other second but finally he managed it, and small drones detached, two from his back and the rest from the scraps of his suit a few feet away, all but two more or less by some miracle unharmed.

Directing them above the piles of ash, he lowered his hands and watched them collect the ash from the ground, air and collapsed structures. He carefully pocketed each one as it came back to him, mentally memorizing which metal and glass capsule held the remains of who. The morbid thought made him nearly drop the third capsule and he could see Nebula jerk from the corner of his eye.

Finally, he turned to face Nebula again, who now looked much less murderous. Instead, she looked desolate, resigned. Suddenly Tony wished she’d stayed angry.

He gestured to her to lead the way and she gave a curt nod, turning and starting down the slope, him close behind. They walked in silence, both focusing on the path ahead and not the desolation of an entire civilization that surrounded them on all sides.

Tony couldn’t help but wonder in what state the Earth will be when they get back.

Finally, a small, sleek aircraft came into view. Mutely, Nebula opened the craft and climbed inside, Tony close behind.

Inside, it seemed even more claustrophobic than from the outside, the walls curved and the ceiling barely higher than Tony. He moved forward to the cockpit, where Nebula was already strapped into the plot seat, hands flying over the controls so fast he could hardly keep up. Though that might have been the exhaustion. When was the last time he slept? He couldn’t recall.

“Sit.” she ordered, not looking at him.

For once he did as he was told without question, sitting down in the copilot seat and strapping himself in as he felt the floor of the ship begin to vibrate gently as the engine silently roared to life.

Neither of them spoke as the ship rose into the air, the atmosphere and into space. Nebula stared resolutely ahead, unblinking, hands clenched on the steering console. Tony sat slumped in the chair beside her, hands at his sides and his eyes unfocused ahead of him.  

It seemed his mind quieted for a few moments, or hours, time seemed to escape him like sand through his fingers, his head blissfully empty of thoughts until he was struck with the sudden urge to be alone so strong he sprung to his feet immediately, but only succeeded in nearly strangling himself with the seat belt.

Nebula finally glanced at him, her blank expression cracking for the merest second to show confusion. Tony jerked his head towards the back of the ship “I-I need to be alone.”

Face smoothing over once again, she nodded and turned back to the console. Relieved, Tony stumbled into the back and into what he dimly recognized as some sort of storage closet, half full of some form of supplies.

He slammed the door closed, sitting against the wall in the near dark like a child hiding from the monster. But the monster had already found him.

The vials clinked softly in his pocket with the rocking of the ship like some sort of gruesome half melody, making him feel faintly sick. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was thankful he hadn't eaten in a while, since any food would have been decorating the metal floor in front of him now. Slowly, he shakily pulled out a capsule filled with grey ash. The ash that was once a spunky, sixteen year old kid who just wanted to help people.

Tony choked, carefully cradling the vial to his chest as his vision blurred once again. The shock was finally fully fading, leaving behind only his turbulent emotions. Somehow, this was worse than the numbness.  He thought he’d felt pain before, with all the shit he’d gone through in his years, but nothing could have prepared him for the excruciating, all consuming grief that seemed to swallow him now.

“I’m sorry kid,” he choked out, curled around the capsule, hardly able to see anything at all now through the tears “I’m so sorry. It should have been me.”


End file.
